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The king straightened and placed his palms on either side of my head. He studied my hand around his shaft, rocked his hips, lips parted, and watched, drunk on desire, as my thumb ran over the narrow slit until his arousal beaded over the head.
“My hand,” I whispered by his ear, “or my mouth?”
Erik let out a moan; his forehead dropped to my shoulder. “If you think I’m going to come before you after all this, you’re mistaken.”
I let out a shriek when Erik scooped me up beneath my thighs, hooking my legs around his waist, and carried me into the washroom. A bath had been drawn in the deep stone basin. Doubtless Alistair and all his preparations would be the one to thank.
Erik placed me on the edge of the basin and made quick work of sliding the damp rag of the torn shift over my head.
On his knees, trousers still seductively low on his thighs, the king sat back on his heels, taking me in. Once, being exposed and bared in such a way, I might’ve felt a flush of embarrassment. It had never been so with Erik Bloodsinger. His gaze, his touch, his passion, all of it unlocked a need to meet him with much the same.
The inky black of his pupils dilated when I slid my palms downmy thighs, spreading my legs on the edge of the stone tub, baring myself.
Erik cursed and drove a hand between my thighs. His rough fingertips teased me with every flick, every touch. I let my head fall back when he dragged his tongue over my chest again, kissing his way down my belly. His fingers curled inside me, and I was undone.
“Erik.” My chest ached from the rough breaths. I cared little and hooked one leg over his shoulder. “Why are you still clothed?”
Erik paused, gently eased my leg to the side, and rid himself of his bloody top. I sucked in a breath. There, down his chest, I could now see plainly the still-healing gash over his heart. He hugged an arm around my waist, pulling me closer, and gently slid his palm over the same scar between the cleft of my breasts.
“Listen to me, love,” Erik whispered against my lips. “Whatever that bastard thinks he took from us, he failed. I belong to you, every wretched piece of me. I’ve no need for spells or bonds to prove it. I choose you, Livia Ferus. For much longer than my last breath.”
Tears lined my cheeks. “Your words help, Serpent.”
I kissed him, deep and sweet. With less frenzy, Erik eased me into the water, only pulling back to finish kicking off his trousers, then covered me with his body, steam coiling around our faces.
For a moment, his fiery eyes drank me in, gleaming with the vicious kind of need I’d always loved, those moments when he planned to stake a possessive claim over me. The tips of his fingers traced the planes of my face, the curves of my breasts, my belly, until his fingertips teased the folds of my entrance.
My head fell back against the edge of the basin. I let my knees fall open. Gods, I’d been starved of his touch too long. Anticipation for the musk of his earthy taste made my mouth drip with want. I reached for him again, but he shifted, avoiding my touch.
Erik nipped my jaw. “What did I say? You first.”
“Bastard,” I groaned when he added a second finger and set a vicious pace.
An intoxicating sort of numb spread over my body, no thought,no worry, no fear, only him. The calluses of his hands, the tension on my skin, the ebb and flow of his touch.
Beyond my control, my hips bucked with every glide of his hand. Water splashed over the rim of the basin onto the floor. Erik pressed the tip of his thumb against the sensitive apex of my core, and a grin split over his mouth when I whimpered, taut and ready to break.
“Prove my words true,” Erik growled, a dark ferocity written on his features. “You’re mine.” He circled his thumb with more focus, thrust his fingers deeper, and lowered his voice to a dangerous tone. “Make certain every damn soul in this palace knows it.”
I shattered.
Water thrashed around us, my body trembled, and his name tore from my throat. With haste, the king swallowed the sound with a bruising kiss. He worked his fingers in and out until my body went lax.
I pressed a palm to my brow, gasping. “Satisfied? You won.”
Erik grinned with a touch of villainy and kissed the slope of my neck. “Not even close, love.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
THE SERPENT
Poisonous blood,with numerous gashes and wounds, was hardly convenient when all I wanted was my songbird naked and pressed against me.
My hands worked quickly but carefully, wiping away the grime from our bodies. Convinced I’d tended to my wounds without spilling any blood over her skin, I still kept a low hum in the back of my throat, when bits of crimson scrubbed off on linens, when drops fell in the water.
I was not risking a moment.
Livia frowned once more at the bandages over my middle, ready to protest my choice to slit my own body; I stole away any remarks by kissing her until she softened in my arms again.
